


Lost

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 10:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17445383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: You and Dean get lost on the way back from a hunt.





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> I found this in my drafts, nearly finished, and decided to finish it.

“I’m not lost,” Dean grumbled. “I don’t get lost.”

“We are lost, Dean,” you sighed. “I can’t even get a signal on my phone. We are literally in the middle of nowhere. I’m pretty sure you took a wrong turn about forty-five minutes ago.”

Dean grinned sheepishly and shrugged. “Nah, it was more like thirty minutes ago,” he chuckled.

You shot a glare Dean’s direction. “Seriously?” you snapped. “You’re making jokes?” You were hot, tired, and sick of being in the car. This hunt had taken a lot longer than anticipated and you were anxious to get back to the bunker. A week alone with Dean was starting to take its toll on you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Dean, in fact you actually liked him a lot. You were basically half in love with him. it was just that after a week of the snarky, can’t-be-serious hunter, you were ready for a break. His constant flirting was starting to weigh on you. It was hard knowing he wasn’t serious, that he didn’t share your feelings. It was even harder without Sam around to occasionally deflect the flirting and keep Dean in line. You were barely hanging onto your sanity, exhausted, and ready for a break. 

Now you were lost, trapped in the car with Dean for God knew how long until you figured out where you were. There was zero cell service out here in the middle of wherever you were, so the GPS was useless. You slumped in the seat next to Dean, arms crossed, foot tapping on the floorboard, wondering when he was going to turn the damn car around. 

“Y/N, I can hear you fuming,” he said after a few minutes. “Chill out, will you?” You could hear the laughter in his voice, barely contained laughter.

“But we’re lost!” you huffed. “And it’s getting dark, so we probably won’t be able to figure out where the hell we are. I’m going to be stuck in this goddamn car with you forever.” 

Dean whipped the wheel to the right, turning down a narrow dirt road that appeared to lead nowhere, a road you hadn’t even seen. He slammed the car into park, the mass of shining black metal lurching in protest, and cut the engine, then he turned to look at you.

“Maybe I got us lost on purpose, Y/N,” he smiled, his green eyes flashing.

You rolled your eyes. More flirting. He couldn’t seem to stop. All he was accomplishing was making you more and more irritated.

“That’s not funny, Dean,” you snarled. You tried to ignore the weird feeling in your stomach those words had caused. 

He sighed dramatically, slid across the seat until he was just inches away from you, reached past you and popped open the glove compartment. He leaned over, his head practically in your lap, and dug around, looking for God knew what. His hand kept brushing over your bare knee and you could feel his warm breath on your thighs. When he finally found what he was looking for, he put his hand on your leg and pushed himself upright. 

“Find what you were looking for?” you muttered, trying to ignore the fact that his hand was still on your leg. 

“Map,” he mumbled. He opened it on his lap, all while rubbing small circles with his thumb on the inside of your leg, right above your knee. Your stomach was twisting in knots and you were starting to rethink your decision to wear shorts.

“Dean,” you whispered after a few seconds.

“Hmm?” he mumbled.

“What are you doing?” you asked. You knew you sounded all breathy and weird, but you couldn’t help it, not when Dean’s hand was on your leg, touching your exposed skin, and all you could think about was how much you wanted him to move it higher.

“Looking at the map,” he replied. “I know it’s crazy, but it’s how we used to get around before GPS and Google Maps.” 

“No,” you said. “Your hand?” You tapped the hand he still had on your leg. 

He finally looked up at you, raising his eyes slowly, a slight smirk playing across his lips. He raised one eyebrow and shrugged. “What?” he asked innocently. He dropped the map, letting it flutter to the floor at your feet. He turned so he was facing you, moving even closer, the right side of his body pressed against your left side. He slung the arm that had been resting on your leg over the back of the seat, rested his hand lightly on your neck, and twisted a lock of your hair between his fingers.

“Are you mad at me?” he murmured, his face just inches from yours. “You know, because we’re lost?”

“Maybe,” you said quietly. “Depends.”

Somehow, he moved closer, though you hadn’t thought there was any more space available between the two of you. He leaned over, his nose brushing against your cheek, his lips sliding up your jaw to rest against your ear.

“Depends on what?” he whispered.

You turned to face him, you wanted to see his face when you asked your question. “Did you really get us lost on purpose?” you said.

He didn’t answer, instead he tangled his fingers in your hair, and tugged you forward until he was able to kiss you, a quick, unexpected, soft kiss, his lips slightly parted and wet, like he’d been licking them. When he finally pulled away, he kept a hand on your face, holding it gently.

“Why are we always fighting?” Dean asked quietly.

“Because you’re an ass,” you murmured.

Dean chuckled low in the back of his throat and shook his head. “I think it’s all this damn sexual tension that’s building between us. Instead of working it off in what I guarantee you would be the best way possible, we bite each other’s heads off and pretend we don’t like each other.” His lips brushed across yours. “But, truth is, Y/N, I do like you and I think you like me, too.”

You nodded, struck speechless, heat flooding your cheeks.

“So, now that we’re being honest with each other, what should we do about it?” Dean smirked.

“Kiss and make up?” you shrugged.

“I like that idea,” Dean laughed, his arms sliding around your waist, crushing you to his chest. “And since we’re lost, we might as well start now.”


End file.
